CHAPTER XIII.

ARROW AND SHIELD.


It seemed strangely still and fresh in the open glade. The blood-
red glamour of a frosty sunset was fading from the sky as the
daylight died away; all round the wood was populous with shadows;
and over its ragged edge the moon hung pale and faint.

Estein walked down a little way, and then stopped and listened. He
could hear the stream rumbling over the stones, but not another
sound. Then the far-off howl of a wolf struck dismally on his ear.
Twice it sounded and passed away, leaving the silence more
intense, while all the time the air grew colder. All at once a
dead branch snapped sharply. Estein looked round keenly, but in
the dusk of the pine stems his eye could pick out nothing. For a
minute everything was still, and then a twig cracked again. This
time he could see plainly a man come from behind a tree and stand
in the outskirts of the wood. For a minute they stood looking at
each other. The man, so far as he could discern in the waning
light, wore the native skin coat and cap, and seemed to hold in
his hands a bow ready to shoot.

Estein quietly drew an arrow from his quiver and laid it on his
bow. Just as he cast his eye down to fit the notch to the string,